Halloween has always been my favorite one. It's just the best one. It's a part of me. I remember every single costume, every single year. The first one I can remember was when I was like, three or so. I was a Jack-O-Lantern. You know those bags you're supposed to put your leaves and lawn shavings in to make compost for gardens? When I was three, my Mom punched two holes in the bottom of one-o-dems bags, stuffed my little legs through 'em, filled the bag with newspaper and voila! Halloween. It was dreadfully uncomfortable and I was leaking newspaper the whole night, and it is one of my fondest memories of my childhood. It was NIGHTTIME, but we were out walking around some neighborhood getting candy. A large part of my identity was established that night.

Ever since, Halloween has held a special meaning to me. I remember every fall when the leaves started to turn, my immediate association wasn't "Autumn is here", but "here comes Halloween". It has its own atmosphere, and I relish it for the entire month of October until it finally arrives. Then I miss it when it's gone. For a considerable stretch of years, my family went to the "Mall-oween" at the local mall because they were worried about razor blades or something. Despite how lame it was, the experience was still special. We'd raid all the participating stores (usually indicated by a cheap paper pumpkin in the shop windows and a grumpy looking sales clerk in a costume sitting outside the store), and after we'd hit every single one, we'd go to the food court and get lemonade from Chick-Fil-A, or however the hell I'm supposed to misspell that. It was just lemonade, but it tasted so good because it was Mall lemonade, and we all shared a single large cup because it was expensive. Eventually, it became a tradition for my brother and I to get the latest edition of the Pro Skater series after trick-or-treating since they usually came out in or around October. The Gamestop in the mall never gave out candy, so we had to wait until we were about to leave to get the games. We did this maybe four years in a row.

As I got older, I started getting more and more resistance from people about my habit of trick-or-treating. I blatantly defied the unwritten rule that you have to stop when you're fourteen or whatever. I've been refused candy because I'm too old. I've been ridiculed and taunted for dressing up at twenty years old. But you know what? Bring it on. I welcome the opportunity to challenge conventional thinking in yet another harmless yet alarming way.

So anyway, the point: This year, for the first time EVER, I had to work on Halloween. 3:00 to 11:00. The first year I'd not be trick or treating in some capacity. I was devastated when I saw the schedule at work. I couldn't get off, either, because I'd already requested time off for Nationals in a few weeks. So I sulked about for the week leading up to my favorite holiday in the world. I went to work on Saturday, miserable and grumpy, blowing off customers and trudging through my monotonous shift, one sandwich at a time.

After work, I drove home slowly, trying to make peace with my loss and drink in what was left of the beautiful, unseasonably warm, cloudy and faintly moonlit night... and suddenly it hit me: The night was not yet over! I was overcome with an urgent sense of determination. It was already 11:30ish, and it was Saturday so people would be turning in so they could get to church in the morning, but... There was something driving me to hit just one house before midnight. I had to. This was MY night.

I found a neighborhood near my house and scanned for activity. The streets were quiet, and a little spooky. Everyone's lights were out, and dread started to trickle into my previously invigorated mind as I wondered if I'd failed to fulfill my Halloween duty after all. But as I rounded a curve, I heard music. I followed it to a front porch with three guys sitting, drinking and smoking. I parked my bike, considered leaving my helmet, and then decided it would be part of my costume. I took off my backpack, opened it, and approached the porch. The three guys looked warily at me. I said "Trick or treat?" causing them to halt their conversation and stare. "Are you serious?" One of them said. "Uh... yeah." I replied, "You guys have any candy left?"
"How old are you?" one said.
"Twenty" I lied. I'm actually twenty-one.
"That's uh, that's kinda weird, man." one of them said, laughing.
That's when a girl walked out of the house. The music was louder during the instant the door was open, and I could tell they were listening to Cold Play inside. "Yo, Sue, this creepy guy's looking for candy" the first guy said to her. She kind of raised her eyebrows at me before asking "Who the hell are you?"

I explained how this was the first year I didn't get to go trick-or-treating, and how I'd just gotten off the clock and I needed to hit one house so I could say I'd gone out this year. I explained that I wasn't a lurker, and I really did just want some candy and I'd leave. Sue smiled, and said she hadn't put the candy away yet from earlier. She went into the house to get it. Then one of the three dudes said he felt bad for making fun of me, and said he had some candy for me too, and he went next door and came back with a bowl full of candy. Between the two of them, they filled up the main compartment of my backpack. Then they asked me if I wanted to stay for drinks, and I reminded them that I'm underage (which was a lie). Then I went home, triumphantly, from another successful Halloween.